Would it be selfish of me if I wanted you to look for me in everything that you do? If I wanted you to smile every moment you thought of my name? If I wanted you to come back to me one day, asking for my love? That same love I repressed for so long because it loved too much. That same love that taught me the meaning of patience and forgiveness. Because I'd be so ready to give it to you.

7 years ago I met a girl,
She was rough,
She was kind,
She was independent,
And she wasn't mine.

The moment I laid my eyes on you,
There was something in the way you move,
There was something in the way you talked,
There was something in the way you were,
There was something in the way you loved,
That made me want to be your something.

You were taken.
I was taken.
But that didn't stop the love from growing.
The heart wants what it wants.
And mine wanted you.

7 years ago all I could imagine
Is what it would be like being the girl in your bed,
Being the girl riding shotgun,
Fingers locked in with yours,
Wind blowing through our hair,
Seeing you sneak glances my direction as you drove,
Radio blasting on that sunny day.

But that was not how it was to happen.
Sometimes we can dream.
Sometimes we can hope.
Sometimes we can pray.
But not everything we want comes true.
7 years ago my heart never thought it would get what it desired.

Today I sit here in our bed writing this,
I sit in the passenger seat stealing glances at you,
that turn in to smiling stares,
I'm the one making you laugh,
I'm the one you call baby,
I'm the one you come home to at the end of a hard night at work,
I'm the one stealing kisses at red lights,
I'm the one holding your fragile heart,
Keeping it safe from pain,
I got the dream.

So let me tell you of a tale from 7 years ago,
That I NEVER thought would come true.

The universe spins
Eyes swirl around a cup of tea
The spoon is patient

I take breaths in moments with no pain.
But I've come to understand that the absence of pain is not the presence of peace.

what do I do with this heart,
how do I console it?

awake and electric
only to signs feeling true
also--a starved animal of sorts
clawing to the bliss of youth
beating time just a little off
with the lungs of my history
this is the tragedy that sets me apart
from the rest of my frail body

and so--heedless pumping.
tolling for everything unforgiving.
here, the lacerations of palpable lies
running parallel to the coronary vein
deep within my living
and here too, the ****** scars to remind
myself, the bigger and louder the
beating gets to finally leave the past behind
each day swelling to the point of failure
and the world stops,
but my heart endures.

what do I do with this heart,
how can I do without it?